Adventures of Enchantment
by windscryer
Summary: Arthur discovers Merlin's secret. That's the least complicated part of his day. Smidge of Arwen. Teeny-tiny spoilers up to 3x03.
1. The Enchantment

Somewhat silly two-part reveal!fic. This wasn't at all what I intended when I started it, but thus is the nature of Muses and writing. Corrected and approved by Jenny.

Disclaimer: *wonders if she can enchant the creators to not only say she owns it, but maybe pay her a small stipend* ... Oh who am I kidding? Forget the money, I just want to hang out on set all day!

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In reality, Arthur's discovery of Merlin's magic was quite anticlimactic.

Which is not to say it didn't have some excitement and stress about it, but it wasn't anything like Merlin had expected.

Merlin had always imagined the most likely method of revelation would involve him performing some grand magical undertaking to save the kingdom—or even just Arthur. Blasting an enemy sorcerer with a fireball during a siege or using his telekinesis to throw away a rampaging attacker on the battlefield. Perhaps revitalizing the kingdom's crops from a curse or restoring the water supply. (That last one had happened more than once already, so it wasn't completely unreasonable to expect it would happen again.)

The next most likely way he imagined was being outed by someone else who finally had proof enough and him with no ready explanation on his tongue. That one scared him more than the former, frankly, because at least it would be easier to plead his case of not plotting against Camelot or the royal family when he was witnessed actively trying to save it.

Though, to be fair, it kind of _was_ that second scenario that was his downfall. Except the "someone" in question was himself. Really, Gaius would be well within his rights to say "I told you so".

Rights he would no doubt exercise just as soon as he found out about this.

But before they could get to the "well-deserved lecture" portion of his day, he had to find a way to convince Arthur to not kill him for being a traitor and a criminal and a really rubbish friend.

Mind you, Arthur wasn't really looking like he was _about_ to execute anyone. His hand was on the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it, but that could be said of Arthur a goodly portion of any given day.

His eyes weren't on Merlin either. They had been, his brows drawn down into a scowl as he'd stormed through the thick branches that had blocked his way, already berating Merlin for being a lazy, useless, good-for-nothing failure of a manservant. He'd trailed off mid-insult, eyebrows soaring the opposite direction at what he'd found along with said errant servant: Fairies. An entire glade of tiny, glowing, winged persons who, it could not be denied, were magical in nature.

And in the middle of it all, Merlin.

Now, being found in a glade of fairies isn't proof of magical abilities in itself. It _can_ get you in trouble in Camelot, but Arthur would normally have just berated Merlin _more_ for getting himself into a potentially dangerous situation. _Again_.

But while merely being in company of fairies wasn't enough to accuse of sorcery, streamers of soft golden light emanating from one's hands and swirling through the air around the numerous fairy couples dancing about was definitely a bit more... incriminating.

Not to mention having one's eyes matching the golden streamers in color and intensity. That was really, _really_ incriminating.

(The soft words being muttered under Merlin's breath in the language of the Old Religion were just overkill at this point in the evidence collection exercise.)

Arthur, happily, wasn't looking at that either, though it was unlikely he'd missed it completely.

He was too busy ducking and dodging, waving his hand in front of his face as if being harassed by a particularly annoying fly. Or a fairy. The Fairy Queen, if Merlin wasn't mistaken. Sadly, he was not.

Arthur dared to glance at Merlin—who was, thankfully, not being so obviously, glowingly criminal any longer—and scowled.

"What _is_ this... _thing_ saying?" he demanded, unable to understand her with his lack of magical abilities.

Merlin—along with everyone or thing—else in the glade winced at that.

The Fairy Queen jerked to an abrupt halt and then with a forceful thrust of both hands toward Arthur unleashed a burst of rainbow-colored, sparkle-laden magic that bowled the prince head over heels and into a tree.

"Arthur!" Merlin immediately got to his feet and hurried over, only to find that instead of a prince clad in chainmail and armor there was... a pile of chainmail and armor. No clothes, either, but that was hardly as distressing as the missing _Prince of Camelot_. Even if she had just magicked him out of his clothes to embarrass him, that would be loads better than making him completely disappear.

"Oh no. Oh _no_." Merlin looked up at the queen who was nodding, her tiny arms crossed over her chest, the very picture of satisfied indignation. "What have you done? You've got to bring him back right now!"

Her eyes widened and there was another collective wince.

She flitted right up into his face and began lecturing him on what exactly it was that she did and did _not_ have to do on the orders of mortals—prophesied warlock or no.

"But you don't understand! This is Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot!"

She shrugged. As if mortal names or titles meant anything to her.

"You know who I am, correct?"

She rolled her eyes and leveled a stare at him that spoke volumes.

"Well then you know what my destiny is! To protect and guide the _Once and Future King_ so that magic can be restored to Camelot and all of Albion united under one peaceful rule!"

A tiny, delicate eyebrow arched.

Merlin rolled his eyes and waved a hand at the pile of chainmail. "Well how many future kings do you think I know?"

She blinked. Then looked down at the chainmail. Then looked up and blinked again. This time, the wince was hers.

A tentative tinkling chime filled the air.

"Exactly! _This_ one is _the_ one! _Now __bring__ him back._"

Eye contact was suddenly hard for the Fairy Queen to make. She scuffed her petal slipper on the air beneath her and wrung her hands in front of her.

Merlin understood very well what she said next, but his brain wasn't quite ready to accept it. "What do you _mean_ you can't fix him? You _have_ to! Bring him back NOW!"

She shook her head, sincerely abashed, and spread her hands in a shrug.

Merlin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's fantastic. Really it is. Now my destiny is to protect the Once and Future Armor. Brilliant."

He put his head into one hand and tried very hard to think about how to fix this before Gaius—or, more importantly, _Uther_—found out what had happened. Because his head was down, he missed the surprised blink of the Fairy Queen.

She glided forward and gently patted his shoulder.

He lifted his head to glare at her. "If it's all the same to you, _Your __Majesty_, I could really do without any more of your help right now, unless you've got a way to bring back Arthur."

She merely pointed downward.

"Yes! I know! He's..." Merlin stared at the face that stared back at him.

Lids dropped briefly over wet glassy eyes and then a moist, rubbery-looking throat ballooned out.

_Rrrrr-IBBIT!_

Merlin swallowed thickly. "Arthur?" he said hesitantly.

Another blink and a longer croak and Merlin dropped to a seat from the crouch he'd been holding with a soft thump. He stared for a moment longer, then—ever so gently—scooped up the massive bullfrog that had climbed out of Arthur's armor.

He might have been inclined to believe that this was another trick except, well, he'd never seen a frog with blue eyes before. He'd certainly never had a frog with blue eyes use them to glare so accusingly at him.

And the fact that the frog was dressed in a tiny red linen shirt and tiny leather breeches—the exact outfit Merlin had assisted his royal master into before helping him into his armor that morning—didn't hurt either.

"I am so ending up in the stocks for this," Merlin breathed.

"_Rrrrr-IBBIT!"_ Arthur agreed.

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Review plz&thx. Part two is coming soon!


	2. The Cure

OH STARS! SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! RL has an unfortunate way of reminding you that it exists and can't be ignored forever. Anyway, THANK YOU ALL FOR YOUR RESPONSES! The number of hits and favorites and alerts and reviews all just blows my mind! THANK YOU!

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Merlin was never going to be nice to fairies again.

Oh sure, most of them were decent enough. They liked their pranks when it came to mortals, sure, but then Merlin could sort of understand that. They mostly picked on absolute prats that deserved it anyway. Which pretty much made Arthur their perfect candidate for this kind of thing.

Not that knowing Arthur probably deserved it helped. Merlin was still a dead man if he couldn't figure out how to fix it.

Actually, he knew how to fix it. The Fairy Queen had very graciously shared that information with him, for all the good it would do.

He was _never_ going to be able to convince Gwen to kiss a bullfrog, though. Unless he could convince her this _particular_ bullfrog was Arthur. Which he was also never going to be able to do.

And that didn't even take into account the fact that Arthur had expressly forbidden him from telling her what had happened.

"Merlin, if you so much as breathe a hint of a _suspicion_ about what has happened to me to Guinevere, I will see to it that you spend the rest of your days cleaning out the stables. And when you're not doing that you'll be in the stocks with all the potatoes I can find supplied to your audience."

Okay, technically, Arthur hadn't said a word—not in English anyway—but he hadn't needed to. Merlin understood that look in his glassy blue eye quite clearly.

However, Merlin didn't seem to have any other choice. The Fairy Queen had made it quite clear that only a kiss from one's true love could break the enchantment.

Merlin had, of course, tried to use magic anyway. He reckoned that in the best case scenario he'd manage it instinctively somehow and Arthur would be so grateful that Gwen wasn't involved and he wasn't a frog anymore that he'd completely overlook that Merlin had used magic. Worst case was that it wouldn't work and they'd have to go to Gwen anyway and Arthur would immediately go to his father and report the use of magic and Merlin would have to find some way to escape execution and still fulfill his destiny.

There was probably a middle ground in there somewhere, but it would certainly require a lot more time to locate and that would likely cancel out any of Arthur's gratitude-induced goodwill.

No, there was nothing for it. He was just going to have to get used to the idea that either he would be dead—or in hiding—soon, or, between the manure and the rotten fruit, he would never smell pleasant again.

He sighed and tugged on the reins to slow his horse to a stop. Might as well get it over with, he thought as he tied both horses to the post.

Pulling Arthur from the saddle bag that he'd rigged to be more comfortable for a passenger, he stepped up to the door and knocked, grateful beyond belief that Gwen had been granted the day off to do some of the seamstress work that she used to supplement her income.

Gwen answered after a moment, smiling when she saw it was Merlin.

"I wasn't expecting you today! Did you and Arthur get back early from..." She trailed off, frowning when she realized Arthur's horse was tethered next to Merlin's and that Arthur's armor was secured to the saddle, but there was no Arthur to be seen.

It was then that she noticed what Merlin was holding in his hands.

If Arthur's discovery of his magic was anticlimactic, Gwen's pursed lips and sigh through her nose at the sight of a bullfrog dressed as a prince was downright bewildering. She shook her head and stepped back. "Come inside then."

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who croaked unhappily, and entered.

Gwen shut the door, then paced away and back a few times, eyes flicking to the frog in Merlin's hands and occasionally up at the owner of said hands.

Merlin felt it best not to say anything. Technically, that _had_ been Arthur's implicit command. He'd said—well, _glared_—nothing about providing Gwen with all the evidence and letting her draw her own logical conclusions. Merlin had no hope that Arthur would agree with his interpretation, but perhaps Gwen could intercede on his behalf after she helped restore the prince to his human self.

Finally she let her arms drop to her sides and said, "How do you two get yourselves into these situations?"

Merlin opened his mouth, but again decided discretion was the better part of not cleaning stables and occupying the stocks permanently and shut it again.

Arthur licked his eyeball. Then screwed up his face in a very unfroggy expression that said he hadn't intended that and hadn't enjoyed it either.

Gwen bit her lip—probably, like Merlin, in his moments of apparent idiocy today—trying not to think of Arthur with donkey ears.

Why did everyone want to change him—or parts of him anyway—into an animal? It was a question to be pondered later. For now they had a prince to fix.

Now how to explain to Gwen what exactly she was expected to do to serve her kingdom once again...

"Oh just give him here. This isn't going to get any easier thinking about it. Not that normally I'd mind but..." She sighed and held out her hands.

Merlin's fingers convulsively tightened on Arthur—which may or may not have been the cause of the strangled sounding croak that escaped his amphibian lips.

"Come again?"

Gwen raised her eyebrows at him and then wiggled her fingers. "Give him here," she repeated.

Merlin looked at Arthur, then thrust his arms out toward her.

He wanted to ask what she planned to do, but she just took Arthur, hooking her thumbs under his forelegs and bringing him to eye level, his long legs hanging down, looking as ridiculous as ever in those tiny—if exceptionally long—breeches.

"Honestly, Arthur, you've got to be more careful with magical creatures," she lectured. "Not everything can be solved with a sword. Understood?"

Arthur just stared back with wide eyes and kicked his feet uselessly.

She closed her eyes and puckered up, leaning forward a bit and pressing a kiss to his lips, ignoring his now frantic struggles to get free.

There was a pop and a flash of rainbow-colored light, a shower of sparkles falling away as frog was replaced with man.

The two of them pulled apart and Arthur stared at her in awe—both of them completely ignoring Merlin's slack-jawed gape a few feet away.

"How did you know...?" Arthur started to ask.

Gwen rolled her eyes and lowered her hands from where they'd remained against his sides, looking down but not resisting when he captured them in his own hands.

"Every little girl, past and present, knows that you can turn an enchanted frog into a handsome prince with a kiss."

His mouth worked once, then shut. He nodded and bestowed one of his best smiles on her. The sudden flush on her cheeks said it had the desired effect.

The second kiss he bent to brush against her lips was purely selfish in intent. "Thank you, Guinevere, for once again saving me from an enchantment only you could break."

Her blush darkened and she stammered a protest, but he just grinned roguishly and turned. "Come on, _Mer_lin. We really need to discuss your... _hobbies_."

Merlin winced again, shooting Gwen a pleading look.

She just raised her hands and said, "I am not getting involved in this. You can explain to him about your magic without me."

Merlin's eyes widened and she shook her head and pushed him toward the door.

"I am not blind or stupid and you are not subtle. Now go before he decides to tell his father about whatever it was that he witnessed today." He still hesitated and she said, "Go!" and shut the door in his face.

Merlin blinked at it, then turned to look at Arthur.

"If you would prefer it, we can have this discussion right here in the _middle of the open street_ or we can adjourn to my chambers and keep it just between us two for now. Which will it be?"

"No! Um.. That is..." Merlin stopped stammering and mounted his horse. "After you, Sire," he said, the picture of subservience.

"No, I don't think so. I want you where I can keep an eye on you," Arthur said, casting a suspicious look at his servant, as though expecting him to perform magic any moment now.

Not likely. Merlin didn't plan to so much as enchant a single piece of hay for some time yet after what had happened today. "As you wish, Sire."

They started off toward the castle proper and after an excruciating three minutes of silence, Merlin said, "Arthur, I can exp—"

"Merlin."

"Shut up?"

"That's it."

Merlin sighed. "Yes, Sire."

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So, uh, this is where I planned to end it. I dunno. Does this work for all of you or what? I could probably scratch out that discussion of theirs if all y'all are interested.

Either way, a note telling me what you loved and what you hated would be appreciated!

Cheers! M


	3. The Aftermath

For all of those who put this story on alert hoping for The Discussion, your patience has paid off... here it is! \o/

This chapter is because of—and therefore dedicated to—SupernaturalGeek, who left me such a _lovely_ review and reminded me I wanted to add this bit in. Thanks, sweets!

Also, now this fic is well and truly completed.

Lastly, this chapter is unbetaed so hopefully any mistakes left are tiny and not terribly damaging to the ability to read it. Let me know if this is not the case and I will fix it post haste. :D

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Arthur held the door for Merlin as he staggered into the prince's chambers with his arms full of armor and then followed him in. Merlin deposited the clanking mess on the table and began sorting the pieces—not because he was anxious to be getting about the business of cleaning it, but because after the rest of the ride through town and the walk up here under the weight of Arthur's scrutiny he was now _not_ anxious to be getting about the business of talking about his magic. For whatever reason, Arthur seemed to agree since he still didn't immediately demand an explanation or start berating Merlin for his idiocy or anything like that.

Then again, Merlin might actually have preferred that to Arthur's choice of sitting in his chair with his boots balanced on the table, still _staring_ at the warlock as he worked.

Finally Merlin could take it no longer and, keeping his head ducked and his eyes on the armor, said, "So... er..."

"How long?" Arthur interrupted.

Since the tone was more curious than accusing, Merlin dared to glance up and saw Arthur's brow was furrowed as if he could see the answers to his questions just by looking closely enough at his manservant.

"H-how long what?"

"How long have you been practicing sorcery? I mean, you tried enough spells back in the woods—spells you apparently had memorized—that you obviously know a thing or two about the dark arts, but we both know that you're not the very quickest learner, so you couldn't have started recently." He tilted his head in consideration. "Unless, of course, you made those spells up on the spot, which might explain both why they didn't work and why you knew so many."

Merlin wasn't sure if admitting he _had_ made half of them up on the spot would help or hurt him, so instead he took exception to something else.

"It's not sorcery."

Arthur's eyebrows arched. "Really," he drawled. "So you're telling me that your ability to create lights and lift things into the air is... what? Natural talent?"

Merlin couldn't help the laugh. "Actually, it is."

Arthur smirked and snorted a laugh himself. "Merlin—"

"No, I'm serious."

"You don't have to pretend that it's something you can't help. I'm not going to have you executed for making an idiotic decision. You'd have been dead ages ago if that were the case."

Merlin glared at Arthur, who ignored it and kept explaining, tone taking a more serious note.

"I heard what you said back there. You think it's your destiny to protect me—which is sort of touching and," he huffed a laugh, "highly amusing—and that foolish notion is obviously what made you decide to pursue the study of sorcery. It's noble in intent, Merlin, but idiotic in execution—as most of your attempts to 'protect' me are."

Merlin stared with a slack jaw as Arthur stood and rounded the table. The prince clapped his servant on the shoulder and smiled.

"I do appreciate your loyalty, Merlin. I know I don't often say it, but your willingness to stay by my side through all the dangers that are an inherent part of being a prince in a kingdom besieged by magic is not something I take lightly. Which is why I'd like you to _continue_ to be my manservant." He lowered his head and stared at Merlin intently. "That will be a lot more difficult if my father removes your head from your shoulders. Do you understand?"

Merlin was still staring in shock and Arthur's lips curled up on one side, his tone taking on a lighter tone when he added, "Not that it would really change your intelligence if he did, I can see, but it would look a bit odd if I had a headless servant following me around. And you'd no doubt trip on even _more _things without your eyes." Then he tipped his head to the side. "Though you'd be quieter without a mouth..."

Merlin finally regained his senses and scowled. "Hey! That mouth has saved your life on more than one occasion!"

Arthur's eyebrow arched. "Really? I can think of more than a few occasions where it's gotten my life _into_ danger as well."

The mouth in question opened and then closed.

Arthur clapped Merlin's shoulder again and then reclaimed his chair.

"Merlin, just stop studying sorcery and continue helping me in the ways that are both allowed by law and required by your position and I'll forget this whole thing ever happened, all right?"

Merlin's shoulders slumped and he shook his head with a resigned sigh.

"Merlin?"

"Yes, sire."

Arthur nodded. "Good. Then I'll be needing a bath. I think I still have frog slime on me," he said with a grimace. "When you've finished with that, you can clean my armor, of course—"

"Tidy your room, polish your boots, sharpen your sword..." Merlin recited in a dull tone.

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "And don't forget mucking out my stables."

Merlin sighed again.

"You know, if you'd like, I can keep my promise about putting you in the stocks. I probably ought to anyway since you deliberately disobeyed me and told Guinevere."

"Ha! I knew it! And I never said a word to her! She figured it all out on her own!"

Arthur arched a brow.

"Besides," Merlin pointed out, "if I _hadn't_ taken you to Gwen, you'd still be catching bugs with your tongue."

Arthur's face screwed up and stuck his tongue out a few times, scraping it on his teeth in disgusted remembrance. "That reminds me, after you fetch the bath water but before the rest of your chores, I need to wash the taste of moth out of my mouth. Preferably with something a little stronger than water. And bring something to eat, too. I'm starved."

"The seven moths, three flies, and two I-don't-even-know-whats weren't enough for you?" Merlin muttered. "You really are going to get fat—"

"Merlin."

"Going! Going!"

He shut the door behind himself and paused for a second to breathe a sigh of relief.

_That really could have gone better—but it also could have gone much worse,_ he thought, one hand drifting up to rub absently at his neck.

Of course now he was going to have to work twice as hard to not get caught using his magic, because even though he now knew Arthur wouldn't outright execute him for it—which was _such_ a load off his shoulders—he'd certainly find ways to punish Merlin and creative punishments were one of Arthur's specialities.

Merlin shuddered at the thought and hurried off to fetch the water for his Prince's bath.

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Love any comments you guys have, if you would be so kind as to share! :)

Cheers,

Maja


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